GratefulHappy
by QueenofConstellations
Summary: In which Selah returns after the assassination of Captain Simcoe to claim his wife and kill Hewlett. Anna, fortunately, has other plans. Anna x Hewlett.
The morning after Edmund Hewlett kissed her, Anna Strong woke up with a smile on her face. The sun was just starting to rise, sending little rays of heaven through the windows of her room at Whitehall, and just for a moment, she allowed herself to be happy. Realistically, by finally succumbing to her feelings for the major, she was inviting more tragedy but, she reasoned, this was war. People could die at any moment; surely they had just put off the inevitable heartbreak that would ensue when Edmund learned of her betrayal, but for now – she could smile.

He had smiled when she touched his face, unsure why her kiss had turned so desperate. He had taken her hands in his own, warming them between his own, and gave her chaste kisses on each of her cheeks before reassuring her once more that her plan was going to work. He reminded her, again, that she was the brains behind their operation, and he would be lost without her.

It was a strange feeling, being valued. She had gifted him with another kiss after that, overwhelmed with affection for the man standing before her, and he blushed, actually _blushed_.

She let her smile take over her face. If only she could stay in her own little world with Edmund and his telescope; hang the King, the war, everyone else. She could be happy.

The rest of the house started to rise and with the sounds of life in the house slowly sucking out the heavy atmosphere of sleep from the rooms, Anna sighed and rose to get dressed. Her daydream couldn't last forever, and she found it was hard to smile as she buttoned her bodice and pinned her long hair into a bun. She sighed heavily and left her bedroom, closing her door on her fantasies.

She was seated, as usual, beside Edmund at the table for breakfast. As they were eating in silence, she felt his eyes on her. She let her eyes meet his own, and he smiled at her, the warmth of his eyes giving her a new smile, different from the one she'd left behind in her bedroom. This one was comfort.

"I trust you had a good night, Ms. Strong?" he asked softly, his own smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

She turned her eyes back to her breakfast. "It was…very enlightening, Major," she replied, matching his quiet volume. "I trust I would like to have another like it soon."

He choked on his food, and his coughing quickly turned into suppressed giggles. Anna gave him a sly smirk and took a calm bite of her food. He tilted his chin up at her, silently telling her he was proud of her, that he understood her meaning, and she bit her lip. She could find happiness here, in the middle of an island surrounded by suffering. She _could._

She raised her eyes from her food and found Mary Woodhull watching her with raised eyebrows. Her smile slid from her face, but Mary gave her a single nod and returned to her food.

As breakfast came to a close, Edmund pulled Anna into his study and closed the door, making sure it was locked before addressing her. "Simcoe left this morning. I take it the rebels will take care of the rest?"

And suddenly, the giddiness was gone. Anna felt herself blink several times in quick succession, trying to decide how to respond.

 _The only way to save Hewlett is to warn him. And if you warn him, I'll hang, so it's your choice._

"Edmund," she said delicately, softly, reaching for his hand. He smiled at her again, the sunniness in his eyes breaking her heart.

His smile faded when he saw her brow furrowed. "What is it?" he asked.

She clutched his hands between her own, relishing in the feeling of being protected, of being loved. "How hard would it be to resign your post?" she asked, interlocking her fingers with his own. He blinked, trying to make sense of her question. "I mean, what would you have to do to resign?"

"Why would I resign?" he questioned, tilting his head to catch her lowered gaze. "Anna. What is it?"

She clenched her jaw, feeling her stomach clench, like it always did before she delivered confrontational news. "You need to resign your post," she said firmly, deciding to keep as much of the truth to herself as possible. "Today. Go back to Scotland."

He pulled back, taking his hands from hers. She could see suspicion clouding his expression now. He looked…hurt, almost. Confused, certainly. He turned away from her, going to his desk and tapping the wood there with his fingers. She watched him nervously.

"What do they have planned for me?" he asked.

Now it was her turn to be taken aback. "What?"

"You're doing it again," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "You're doing that secretive thing you do when you're trying to protect me. You don't want to tell me anything that might incriminate someone else, but the jig is up, Anna. Abraham has been revealed as a spy! You don't have to protect him anymore," he came back to her, standing before her with the sunlight shining around his silhouette. "What does he plan to do to me?"

She swallowed thickly. "He plans to have the rebels kill Simcoe, and then return to kill you."

His eyes focused on something far away from her. She stayed silent, watching him as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, tightened his hold around the lapel of his coat. "I should have figured that," he muttered. "I know he's Culper."

She let out a quiet sigh; hearing that name took all the energy from her, and his eyes rose to her again. "I told him that I don't care about Culper. I don't give a _damn_ , pardon my language, about this stupid spy game. The only reason, _the only reason_ that I'm still here, that I'm trying to end this war, is to protect you."

She shook her head; the sentiment sent her pulse racing, but it wasn't important right now. "Protect yourself, Edmund," she implored him, laying her hand delicately over his heart. She found herself doing that more often now than ever. She was obsessed with feeling his heartbeat, as if she was afraid she wouldn't have it soon. "Go back to Scotland."

"Come with me, then," he replied, taking her hands in his and kissing her knuckles. "Protect yourself too."

She wanted to say yes; the word was on the tip of her lips, and the hope in Edmund's eyes only pushed her closer to him. She had nothing left in Setauket, nothing left here. Her husband, wherever he was, thought she had deserted him. Abe was a different man. She had no house, no business, nothing. She had nothing but the man standing in front of her.

"You want to say yes," he whispered.

She had to acknowledge that her hesitation lied in knowing that Edmund would never suggest such a thing if he knew the role she truly played in the Culper Ring. She shook her head, lowering her forehead to his chest. She let a silent sob shake her shoulders, but Edmund seemed to know instinctively that she was crying. He pulled her closer into his embrace and let one of his hands come to rest at the back of her neck.

"I always make you cry," he noted, and the pain in his voice only made her cry harder. How was she supposed to tell him that he wasn't making her cry, it was guilt? How could she saw such a thing and then not explain herself? She clutched at him, holding onto his arms while he gently stroked the bare skin at the nape of her neck, whispering soft words of comfort that she didn't understand.

Finally, she pulled away, wiping her eyes gently. "Edmund, I can't go with you to Scotland."

He pursed his lips, hiding disappointment behind a reassuring face that said he would love to be allowed to convince her otherwise. "Why not?"

She stared up at him, his ardent love for her sparkling at her from his brown eyes, and she saw her plan of action plain. The only way she could get him to save himself was to make him want to leave without her. It was a horrible thought, one that brought sobs to the back of her throat again, but she suppressed them and stepped away from him. "There are things you don't know," she began quietly.

He let her move away from him. "I'll admit, I am reminded of that a little more every day. What don't I know?"

She considered her next statement carefully. "Once Abraham finds out that I warned you, it's only a matter of time," she said.

"I daresay it'll be only a matter of time for a lot of things," Edmund replied with the trace of a smile, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"You pressed him for the names of his co-conspirators," she plowed on, her resolve weakening. "And he gave you none."

Edmund nodded, but his eyes were trained on her now, carefully, warily. "Yes…"

"When he finds out that I warned you, he will name you at least one co-conspirator, and I think it's better if you hear it…well, if you hear it from me before he tells you," she was fidgeting with her hands now, wringing them together like she had a towel between them.

Edmund sighed. "I always thought…considered…but I didn't want to believe it."

She froze; her hands clenched tight around each other, trying to give comfort through skin contact while she was too afraid to reach out to him. "What?"

"Anna, when I told you that you were the brains of the plan, I wasn't giving you light compliments," Edmund revealed. "Did you really think I didn't at least suspect you? An affair with Abraham, a family with a history of radical politics, and a brain that rivals even the best strategists in the Continental and King's armies? Of course I suspected you."

She spluttered. "Then…then why didn't –"

"Why didn't I say anything?" he finished for her. "I admit, at first, it was selfish. I wanted a chance to get to know you. I found my own strength in yours, and when you allowed me to cultivate a friendship with you, I learned things about you that made spending time with you valuable. Yes, I loved you then, and having the woman I loved hanged for treason was unbearable. For that, I would lose my position. I would hang if anyone else knew.

"Then Simcoe returned, and it became a matter of protecting you. I had resigned myself, at that point, to only being your friend, and that was enough. But then I saw how you reacted when I got back from my imprisonment. I thought…maybe I have a chance. Maybe she'll love me one day."

A tear slid from Anna's eyes down to her cheek, and Edmund gave a quiet cluck of disapproval. "And I've made you cry again," he said quietly.

She wiped it away. "I'm sorry, I'm just…you don't hate me?"

He smiled softly at her, the kind of smile that softened the lines around his eyes and took her hand again. "I could _never_." She let him pull her into a hug that enveloped her, calming the residual nerves she'd felt at revealing her secret to him. "But if that is your only reason for not coming with me to Scotland, then I have to protest."

She laughed, the giggles bubbling up in her hysterically. "I've never been to Scotland," she admitted. Edmund pulled away from her, his face betraying delicate offense.

" _Never?"_ he exclaimed, and let his offended expression fall into a smile. "Well, my family has a small plot of land there, and I daresay I have a mother who would very much like to meet the woman I keep writing home about."

He kissed her forehead gently, pulling her back into their hug. A knock downstairs startled them both, but they ignored it. She moved away from him, her hand trailing down his arm to catch his hand.

"What's Scotland like?" she asked curiously.

"So green, and beautiful," he said dreamily. "Full of hills and softness. You'd like it."

"Would I?" she smiled, her previous notion upheld. She _could_ be happy.

Mary's voice wafted up the stairs. "Anna?"

The woman in question jumped, moving toward the door. Strictly speaking, it wasn't proper for her to be in Edmund's study with him alone, but she doubted Mary would fault her. She opened the door and caught the woman's attention across the hall.

"Anna," her face was paler than usual, her hands shaking. "Anna…Selah's here."

Anna turned immediately back to Edmund, whose contented expression fell once again. She turned back to Mary. "What does he want? Why is he here?"

Mary shook her head vehemently. "I don't know. He's covered in blood. He said he's come for you."

Edmund, behind the women, was rummaging in his desk. "Stay here, Anna," he ordered, trying unsuccessfully to hide his pistol against his side. Anna hissed and grabbed his arm. "I said I would protect you," he insisted, trying to remove her hand. "I didn't mean just from Simcoe."

"Edmund, please," she pleaded. "Let me talk to him."

He surveyed her face carefully, looking for any betrayal of fear. Finally, he conceded. "But I will go with you," he added. Anna squeezed his hand tightly and descended the stairs.

Selah, back in Setauket? She imagined that he had been folded into the Continental Army and he would never see her again. She hadn't yet thought clearly about obtaining a divorce – it was clear there was no passionate love on either side of their marriage – but she certainly didn't think he'd return to Setauket for the sole purpose of retrieving her.

Mary was right, Selah was covered in blood; it was splattered across his face, smeared on his hands along with the black stain of gunpowder, and Anna was reminded so strongly of Simcoe that she took several steps back. His eyes were wide with that unfathomable emotion that war awoke in men.

"Anna," he said when he spotted her, holding out his hand to her. "Simcoe is dead. It's done. Let's go."

She recoiled. "Selah, what…what are you doing here?"

He straightened up, pushing his shoulders back. "I came here to get my wife back. Your job is done. The Culper Ring is finished."

Edmund, behind her, watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. He had never seen the married couple interact – he had no idea who Anna Strong was when Selah was sentenced to the Jersey. Now, he watched with analytical eyes. She was frightened; he moved with a caged closeness that was too primal for Edmund's tastes. He watched as Anna put one of her hands behind her back and clutched her own skirt tightly between her fingers, having nothing else to hold on to.

"I'm not going," she said firmly.

He halted all movement; the lack of it was more disconcerting than his constant shifting. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not going," she repeated. "I have no place in Washington's camp. I'm not a soldier."

"No, you're my _wife_!" he roared, and Anna flinched back another step. "Or is what Abe said true? You're going to forsake your wedding vows for a bloody coat officer?" his eyes came to rest on Edmund, standing behind her. "This him?"

She clenched her jaw tightly. "I'm not going because I don't want any other part of this bloody war! And if you want to get specific, I betrayed our vows for Abraham. And you can take that up with him."

Edmund admired her courage, but that was not what he would have said to a man that looked as crazed as Selah Strong. He let out a loud laugh that sounded more like an animal's growl than mirth. "You think I didn't know that?" he threw back at her, his face contorted with cruelty. "I knew who you were when we got married. I just never expected you'd betray your country like this."

He gestured to Edmund once more, and Anna stepped cleanly in front of him. "So this was Abraham's big plan, was it?" she said, her voice suddenly calm. Edmund saw her hand, still tight around her skirt, come free. She held it toward him, and he knew. Gently, quietly, he placed his pistol in her hand. "Kill Simcoe and send you back here to get me. And, what, is your prize that you get to kill Hewlett?" Edmund's eyes jumped to Selah's. "That's just what Abe would want. So I would be miserable at your hands forever, leaving his clean.

"Our life is gone. Our home, our tavern, our love. You know it, I know it. You are committed to this war, to freedom. Continue your commitment. I am committed to finally being happy."

"You are coming with me," Selah insisted once more. "Let's go, Anna."

With a slow and deliberate movement, she pulled the gun from behind her back and pointed it at him. Her hand was steady. "I'm not leaving with you," she repeated. "Go before I become a widow."

He held up one hand, the one that wasn't holding a gun, in a show of surrender. As he took a step toward her, Anna reached up and cocked the gun. Edmund was in awe of the warrior that stood in front of him. He was supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around. But yet again, in spite of his promises, he found himself allowing her to protect him.

"If you truly want to be with him, why don't you let us settle it like men?" Selah challenged. "A duel, Hewlett."

"Gladly," Edmund piped up from behind Anna. She turned halfway to him and glared.

" _There will be no duels_ ," she shouted, taking a step toward Selah. "Go. Leave now and the King's men won't follow."

She wasn't sure how long he stared at her, mouth agape, before he turned and left. She waited until his figure was gone from her vision before she lowered the gun, breathing heavily. She let Edmund catch her, whispering words of pride and love. She let him protect her from her guilt, from her shame.

"I thought you said Scotland was green," Anna Hewlett remarked, staring at the snow from the window. Edmund, from the sitting room, chuckled but did not respond. "I'm serious, I feel like I have been grievously deceived."

"My dear, seasons sometimes hinder the color of the countryside," he remarked, hitching their daughter higher on his hip. The sleeping girl wrapped her arms around his neck and cuddled deeper into his neck. "I think Callie needs to be put to bed."

Anna smiled at him and held her hands out for her daughter. He passed her over and watched, a soft smile on his face as she lowered the girl into the small bed that was closest to the fire. She gave the baby a soft kiss on the top of her head of dark hair.

Edmund admired the dichotomy of the woman before him with the woman he met in Setauket. The one who was apt with a gun and quick to solve fights was also deft with a baby's delicate sensibilities and loved to shower both her daughter and her husband with kisses.

She bestowed one upon him now, whispering softly in his ear that she was going to go to bed, and it would be in his best interests to join her.

He was grateful. She was happy.


End file.
